


Once Bitten

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Category: Discworld - Pratchett
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-19
Updated: 2004-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angua's past isn't all that clear, and one single line from Men at Arms prodded my brain until I wrote something about it. Set during Monstrous Regiment, Angua and Vimes have some time to kill. Originally intended to be Vimes/Angua, but turned into something a little less fluffy. A question: is it ever mentioned in canon just how old Angua is? I mentioned it on Second Floor and people were of the opinion that she wasn't much older than Carrot (who was in his late teens in Men at Arms. I think.), but I think she's older than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Bitten

**Author's Note:**

> Discworld characters belong to Terry Pratchett.

Angua finished feeding the imp that kept the clock on the wall running smoothly, swung the wooden door closed, and sighed when she saw the time. Buggy wasn't due back for another hour and Vimes was getting impatient. If that was the word for it. He certainly wanted things to get moving. For her own part, Angua was relatively happy to let the politics of other countries sort themselves out, especially a country as small as Borogravia.

There was a picture of the Duchess next to the clock. Looking at it, Angua could see why people were unhappy.

Across the room, Vimes was writing something, with the occasional pause to curse at the dribbly ink. It might be a letter to his wife, or a cryptic little message to send off with a pigeon. Angua didn't know and didn't care. She was sick of being here, could smell boredom on the Commander as well, and then there was the other thing that was bothering her.

'Sergeant, stop pacing. You'll wear a hole in the floor,' Vimes said without looking up.

'Take a while, sir -- that's solid stone.' She hadn't even realised she was pacing. The windowsill looked wide enough to sit on. When she was up on it she looked outside, but there wasn't much of a view. Ivy had grown over the building and a thin mesh of the stuff obscured whatever uninteresting bit of Borogravia was outside.

'Care to tell me what's wrong?'

'I... not really, sir.' Why should she bother him with domestic problems? Given that he'd left his wife at home with his almost-newborn-son, he probably had a few of his own. 'Just wondering what's happening at home.'

'Not much, I should think. It _is_ Ankh-Morpork, after all.'

Home. Home wasn't Überwald any more. Not for Angua. Home was that smelly city with more than its fair share of criminals (or so she thought after some nights). It wasn't Pseudopolis, where she'd spent almost a whole year before her own sense of shame and self-preservation had driven her away. It wasn't Quirm. She'd never liked Quirm anyway. Not the city. The people were alright... some of them... well, maybe one of them, but she'd never liked the city itself. Lancre had held some vague passing interest, but only until she'd been able to move on.

Then she'd come to Ankh-Morpork, where there had been a niche waiting to be filled, and had filled it. The space in the Watch for a w- well, everyone knew about that. Then there was her place with Carrot. And despite her initial misgivings about the whole relationship, she had to admit it was working. Sort of. There were still problems, even with Carrot.

'What problems with Carrot?'

Angua grimaced. 'Did I say that out loud?'

'No. But I know you. And I did notice the look on his face when we were leaving.'

'What, you mean the revulsion? That was because your son had just thrown up on him.' Sybil had handed baby Sam to Carrot for just a moment to say goodbye to Vimes properly, and a moment had been long enough for the boy to share his breakfast (ironically, pureed carrots) with Carrot. 'You can't blame him for that.'

'_Not_ that, Angua.' He rarely used her name; it sounded strange. 'Just after you said goodbye to him. He looked like he was losing you forever.'

'I don't know.'

Vimes just looked at her.

'We had words before I left. He said he didn't want me going into a war zone and I asked him what he was talking about, since I patrol the Shades, and he said that he should go instead of me.'

'I needed your... unique skills,' Vimes said. 'He knew that.'

'He thought he could do just as well. I reminded him of how... _stupid_ he'd been in Überwald and he just shrugged and said that I was right.' Angua sighed. 'I wish that just once, instead of agreeing with me, he'd argue a point.'

'You want arguments?'

'He's too bloody calm. He never gets angry with me. Then I feel terrible for yelling at him. I can't possibly be right all the time. I don't know what it is. I don't know why he feels like he's got to let me have my way all the time.'

'Perhaps it's because you could tear his throat out if he disagreed?'

'If you think I'd do that to Carrot, you must be mad.'

'Of course I don't. But you have to admit, having a girlfriend who's a werewolf would make anyone tread carefully.'

'Usually in the opposite direction.' The words came out before she could stop them.

'Really?'

'It's not all that easy to be romantically involved with someone when you spend three days a month covered in fur and prone to howling at things. I didn't come straight to Ankh-Morpork from Überwald, you know.'

'I can't imagine it would be most people's first choice,' Vimes said neutrally.

'I tried other places. I really tried. But once one person knows it gets around and nothing stays secret for long when it's anything like this. People got scared.' She ran her fingers through her hair. 'I look in the mirror, and I see me. I see someone who doesn't rip people's throats out -- not unless they really get up my nose, anyway -- that was a joke, sir,' she added, noting the look on Vimes' face. 'I see someone who people are only too happy to like, until they find out about the wolf part. And then it all stops, and the fear starts.'

'Carrot wasn't afraid,' Vimes said. 'Was he?'

'He drew his sword,' Angua replied.

'Ah.'

'And no matter what he does to make up for it -- and he keeps trying -- I keep remembering that. And his face.' She closed her eyes very tightly for a moment, as if she could see it again. 'He looked the way you used to when people said something you didn't like. And I could smell that he was afraid. Afraid of _me_. I thought, _that's it now. I've got to go._ I had to run.' She plucked a leaf from the ivy, rolled it between her fingers, and then dropped it on the floor. 'Just like I had to run in Pseudopolis, from someone I'd known almost a year. Just like I had to run in Quirm, from a man who threw stones at me.' Vimes was sure that she wasn't conscious of rubbing her thigh as if the stones had only just struck it. 'Like running in Lancre when they thought I was after the sheep. I wasn't after their bloody sheep. I was looking for somewhere to get out of the moonlight and sleep.'

'So you came to Ankh-Morpork. Why? Did you think nobody would find out?'

'Of course I knew people would find out. But it's a lot easier to be different in Ankh-Morpork.' Angua shrugged. 'I thought joining the Watch would help. Being a copper... who's going to ask too many questions? Who's going to find out?'

'Apart from another copper.' Vimes stood up, stretching. 'I don't think you have to run from Carrot. Unless he gets too agreeable.'

'It's not funny.'

'I think it is. Look, Sergeant, just enjoy what you've got while you've got it. Sometimes people spend far too long looking for what they want when it's already under their nose. And if you want a really good argument, ask Nobby exactly where the tea money's gone when we get home.' Vimes came over to the window, leaning close to her, and pushed aside the ivy. 'Here comes Buggy. I think he's got something.'

'Thanks, sir.'

'You can't let a couple of bad experiences get you down for the rest of your life.'

'I know, sir.'

'Let's hope Buggy's got something good. I want this to be over.' Vimes turned away from the window. 'You're not the only one who wants to go home.'


End file.
